Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Morocco and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Shadows of Knight to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Colin Newman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Magazine,
Roxette,
Negative Approach,
Clear Light,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Gun Club,
Average White Band,
The Angels of Light,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ronnie Foster,
Popol Vuh,
Kenny Larkin,
Alphaville,
Jawbox,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
L. Decosne,
Nick Fraelich,
It's A Beautiful Day,
John Foxx,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Scion,
FM Einheit,
Eric Copeland,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Chris & Cosey,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Dual Sessions,
Warsaw,
Mr. Review,
OOIOO,
Tommy Roe,
Blancmange,
The Gladiators,
EPMD,
Motorama,
Radiohead,
Lungfish,
Sonic Youth,
DJ Sneak,
Unrelated Segments,
the Fania All-Stars,
Minnie Riperton,
Dennis Brown,
Severed Heads,
The Sound,
Basic Channel,
Joy Division,
Easy Going,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Traffic Nightmare,
Duran Duran,
Visage,
Lee Hazlewood,
John Lydon,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.